


The Ticklish Pear

by miss_leading



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU because I'm not following Hogwarts Mystery canon, Abuse of Authority, Care of Magical Creatures, Charlie Weasley Centric, POV Charlie Weasley, Quidditch, Tags May Change, basically Charlie is a SPEW member before SPEW exists, because lets face it Newt and Charlie are one soul in two bodies when it comes to magical creatures, but not yet and it won't be graphic, discourse/discussion around animal rights/abuse, i would say OOC but since he isn't really around much in canon there's not much to make OOC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:41:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23760031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_leading/pseuds/miss_leading
Summary: Charlie Weasley's first year at Hogwarts is anything but uneventful.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

“..and for Heaven’s sake Bill, do _not_ let him get lost! He is your responsibility when we’re not there and I hope I…”

His mother’s shrill tones were drowned out by the din of a thousand witches and wizards hugging, shouting, and saying tearful goodbyes to their children. King’s Cross had seemed busy last year when they’d all gone to see Bill off, Charlie thought, but this was on a whole other level.

“…and remember, just because the dormitories have house elves does NOT mean you can leave the place a pigsty. Fred _come_ away from that, it could bite!”

He watched with a grin as she pulled Fred’s hand away from a cage that could only be described as containing a hairy ball of teeth. Having one son away from home for half the year was too for her much, let alone two. Charlie was fully expecting to see her board the Hogwarts Express with them by the time the twins started. 

“Oh Charlie, just _look_ at the state of your robes," his mother exclaimed, attempting to brush away a mysterious stain on his robes that was probably older than he was.

Charlie pulled away hastily and for good reason - in his pocket there was a secret. His Uncle Bilius had been feeling generous and had owled them a couple of Galleons each. Charlie had been trying to save up for a Cleansweep (only 300 Galleons to go!) but he just so happened to come across a certain giant snail in the Magical Menagerie and it was a lost cause. The Streeler was currently in a small wooden box that he’d found in his dad’s shed. It didn’t seem very happy about it and had shot purple mucus all over the carpet earlier that day in protest but there was no other option– he knew better than to think his mother wouldn’t do an impromptu reshuffling of his trunk, even at the train station.  
As it was, they ended up running late and just about had the time to load his and Bill’s trunks onto the train and say some hasty goodbyes. Charlie let himself be hugged by his parents and Percy (the latter slightly awkwardly) and hopped up onto the train after Bill, waving to Ginny and the twins as he did so.

The train was packed with luggage, stray owl cages and students of all ages laughing and swapping Chocolate Frog cards ( _‘…I already TOLD you, I’ll only swap you for Circe if you let me have a go on your Comet'_ ). Charlie grinned, feeling a rush of excitement. He turned around to ask Bill if they should try and find a carriage but found he’d disappeared. _So much for ‘look after your brother'_ he thought to himself. Excitement giving way to panic, he wandered up and down the train aimlessly for a while until he found a compartment near the back that was empty, aside from a boy sitting alone.

“Do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full.”

The boy looked a bit confused but smiled at him shyly.

“Sure.”

Charlie grinned and sat down on the seat across from him.

“I’m Charlie, by the way. Charlie Weasley.”

“Robin.” said the boy.

“What? Where?” Charlie replied, craning his head to look out of the window.

The boy snorted.

“No, my _name_ is Robin.”

“Oh." Charlie fiddled with the hem of his robes, feeling stupid. “Nice name.”

“Thanks,” said Robin, leaning forwards. He was about the same age and build as Charlie, but with darker hair and heavily lidded hazel eyes.

“So you’re a Weasley, then?”

“Yeah.”

A moment of silence passed.

“..Have you got a problem with that?” Charlie said, feeling the heat rise in his face.  
He knew what people said about his family. His parents tried to shield him and his brothers and sister from it because they didn’t want to upset them, but he knew. Charlie didn’t want to be liked by snobby purebloods but being called a ‘blood traitor’ still didn’t hurt any less.

“No! No. I just–your family’s one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, right? That’s where I recognised it from,” he said in a hurry, his pale cheeks flushing slightly red.

Charlie breathed out, feeling a bit stupid again for getting so worked up.

“Yes. We don’t think it matters, though. All that pureblood stuff’s a load of rubbish, that’s what my dad says.”

He eyed Robin suspiciously, watching for his reaction. Something about him screamed pureblood and Charlie didn’t want to share his first Hogwarts journey with some stuck up Slytherin in the making.

“No, no, I agree,” he blurted. “I was just curious."

They sat in silence for a while after that, Robin staring out the window with an unreadable expression and Charlie trying not to fidget too much. He just wasn’t used to sitting quietly and not talking for so long. At home, you couldn’t go five minutes without his mother shouting at the twins for setting something on fire or someone wanting to play Quidditch in the orchard. Charlie suddenly felt a wave of emotion thinking of his family. He had Bill, but that would be it for a while if he didn’t make friends soon.

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” he asked Robin eagerly.

“Only a brother. His name’s Richard, but he’s younger than me so I haven’t learnt any magic off him or anything.” He seemed to wilt slightly as he remembered this. “I haven’t really got a clue about spells or anything. My mum doesn’t even use magic at home anymore.”

This was the most he’d spoken so far, and Charlie was already full of questions. He knew what Muggleborns were (his Dad was endlessly fascinated with everything Muggle) but he’d never heard of witches or wizards refusing to use their magic before. Was his mother bad at charms and afraid to use any in case she went wrong? Or did he have a Muggle father who didn’t know about his magic yet? He wanted to ask but could sense this wasn’t something Robin wanted to talk about.

“My brother said everyone’s a bit of a duffer for the first year so I wouldn’t worry,” he said in a voice he hoped was reassuring but probably wasn’t from the look on Robin’s face.

At that moment, the trolley witch slid back the door and all thoughts of home were forgotten for the meantime. Charlie had a beef sandwich his mother had clingfilmed for him but was secretly hoping that Robin might be loaded and pay for some Pumpkin Pasties for them. As it was Robin shook his head at the witch and pulled out his own battered sandwich, smiling ruthfully.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours."

The rest of the journey after that was much less awkward.

Robin wasn’t very outgoing, and he got the impression that he wasn’t going to tell him much about himself, but he genuinely seemed interested in Charlie and what he had to say. He spotted the small wooden box in the pocket of his robes and was excited when Charlie showed him what was inside.

“I’ve seen one of these in a book but never in real life. They’re supposed to be _really_ rare” he said, giving the Streeler a gentle poke with the end of his finger as it slid lazily about the windowside table.

They were just getting into what promised to be a lengthy discussion on the best Quidditch teams in Britain (Robin was a Magpies fan to Charlie’s horror) when the compartment door slid open.

“ _There_ you are, I’ve been looking all over for you.”

It was Bill, accompanied by a tall blonde girl and another boy Charlie didn’t recognise.

“Sorry, I got lost. This is Robin - er what did you say your last name was again?”

He turned around to ask but was interrupted abruptly by Robin roughly pushing past him and Bill.

“See you at school,” he muttered, his head bent. He shut the door behind him.

Charlie and Bill looked at each other with equally puzzled expressions.

“What the bloody hell was that all about? And why is everywhere..sticky?” He’d put his hand on the table and hastily pulled it away, his hand covered in the Streeler’s leftover slime.  
“Dunno,” Charlie said quickly, feeling the weight of the box in his pocket.

“Anyway, we’ve got a cabin in the next carriage down if you want to sit with us. Oh, this is Connor Laghari and Ella Lamb, by the way..”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time they got to Hogwarts, Charlie was practically ready to swim the Black Lake. Ella and Connor were nice, but he had heard more about corruption in the Gobstones society and the rumour that Ludo Bagman was the new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher than he’d ever needed to know (ever). Eventually, he just settled on staring out the window in a daydream, reliving the last Quidditch match his dad had taken them to see a few months ago. Bill had practically gushed about how great the Gryffindor team was and Charlie had been very disappointed to find out that they never accepted first years. He’d just have to show them how good he was at flying, he thought as he watched the countryside race by, then maybe he’d have a chance. 

After he and the rest of the first years had an…eventful boat ride to the castle that involved them getting much wetter than they were probably intended to be, they were marched into the Great Hall ready for the Sorting

Charlie wasn’t really...sure what the Sorting actually was. It was some unspoken rule that students and graduates wouldn’t tell you exactly what it was. All he’d gotten out of his parents was that it was some sort of test and that everyone watched you take it. Bill had straight up told him you had to wrestle a troll and that the losers got put in Slytherin. Charlie was pretty sure it was his parents who were telling the truth, but he’d been excited the entire journey on the off chance that it actually was the troll (they were rare and one of his current favourite creatures) 

As it was, he was pretty disappointed it turned out to just be a threadbare old hat and his disappointment didn’t end when it opened what he assumed was its mouth and started to sing. Charlie had guessed from the professor’s expressions that whatever it was singing was important and he was supposed to be listening, but it was honestly a bit hard to follow. Something about _brave hearts_ and being _unafraid of toil_ ? He noticed a lot of people weren’t paying attention to the song either, so it was probably ok if he didn’t. A blonde-haired Hufflepuff girl was visibly yawning and he even spotted Bill was twirling his fork in one hand absentmindedly.

As the Hat finished, and the Sorting began, Charlie looked around for any familiar faces and eventually spotted Robin towards the middle of the line. The boy looked decidedly paler than when Charlie had seen him on the train and only managed a small smile when he caught Charlie’s eyes. He noticed several other first-years looking just as nervous. Wasn’t sorting supposed to be exciting? It felt exciting to him, at least.

‘Farr, Robin!’

Robin stepped forward.

Most of the hall didn’t react, but he noticed several of the older students, Slytherin and Gryffindor specifically, looking at him in.. anticipation? Anger? He wasn’t sure. Robin himself was determinedly avoiding eye contact with all the students in front of him until the Hat had slid down over his eyes.

It was the longest sorting so far and the one that worried him the most. The Hat never spoke aloud, of course, but he saw Robin visibly inhale than exhale with a nervous sigh several times. A prickle of nerves started in the bottom of his chest–what if the Hat asked really awful questions and you were forced to answer by some sort of truth-telling charm? Charlie racked his brains trying to think of anything he’d ever done or thought that could inadvertently get him put in Slytherin but thankfully came up blank. He thought back to his time on the train with the boy. Ravenclaw, maybe? He seemed pretty smart, but then again Charlie didn’t know many other wizards his own age to compare him to. He’d seemed worried about how good he would be at magic, which was the most Ravenclaw thing he’d ever heard. But he seemed to want to make his parents proud so maybe that made him a Hufflepuff? Did that even make sense?

No sooner had he thought that than the Hat appeared to have made its mind up.

“GRYFFINDOR!” it cried.

The hall was silent for just a second before breaking out into half-hearted applause. Robin’s face appeared once again from under the hat. He looked even paler than he had in the sorting line and his mouth was set in a firm angry line. Charlie didn’t understand why he looked so upset. From the stories his parents told, Gryffindor seemed by far the most fun to be sorted into. Robin obviously didn’t feel that way though - from his expression, you’d have thought the Hat had told him he didn’t have any magic at all.

He didn’t have long to think about this though, as Professor McGonagall was soon calling ‘Weasley, Charlie!’.

He gave Bill, who had half stood up to get a better look, one last nervous thumbs up and unceremoniously jammed the Hat onto his head.

“Do I even need to ask what family you belong to?”

The Hat didn’t exactly..talk, more place its thoughts inside his head like a second consciousness. It was weird but not entirely unpleasant.

“No, sir.”

“Hmm, very polite. Kind too, those are both excellent Hufflepuff traits.”

“I am NOT going in Hufflepuff! “

“Alright, alright I never said I was certain. Besides, people can have traits that fit into more than one house, you know."

“Does that happen a lot?”

“You’d be surprised. Anyway, where do you _want_ to be put?”

“Gryffindor of course.”

“Of course. Well, you have a lot of the classic Gryffindor traits – you’re daring, and you definitely like to live on the more dangerous side of life.

“Great. Gryffindor it is then."

“Wait a second, I’m not finished just yet. You like to learn, but not necessarily in a purely academic sense, so I think Ravenclaw is out..hmm and Slytherin too since you don’t seem that focused on finding an ambition.”

Charlie breathed a sigh of relief.

“Not a fan of Slytherin, eh? Dear, dear, sometimes I wonder about the effects this Sorting has on us.”

“Well, you can’t exactly be surprised. All the witches and wizards who went over to You-Know-Who’s side in the war were Slytherin. My parents fought against them in the war.”

“But not all Slytherins followed suite, am I wrong?"

“No. I…still don’t want to be in Slytherin though!”

“And I was never planning to put you there. So let’s see, shall we–Hufflepuff or Gryffindor? You’ve got all the traits of both, but I can see that–yes, your mind seems made up on GRYFFINDOR!”

The Hat shouted the last part to a burst of applause. Charlie muttered a quick ‘thanks’ to the Hat before running to take his seat next to Bill at the Gryffindor table.  
“Wasn’t so hard, was it!” he said, clapping him on the back.  
Several other older Gryffindor leaned over to shake his hand and a few nearby first years attempt to introduce themselves over the din of the Hall.

Charlie just grinned–for the first time that day he _finally_ felt like he was a part of something special.  
\----------------------------------------- 

‘..and I have great pleasure in introducing Professor Lin to you all."

Professor Dumbledore paused mid-speech to gesture towards a young wizard in green robes sat at the staff table. He stood up awkwardly and attempted a wave before deciding against it and rubbing the back of his head.

Several people tittered.

“Professor Lin will be taking over the Defence Against The Dark Arts position from Professor Arista,” said Dumbledore, who didn’t appear to have heard them. “He is, as I’m sure you have all heard, currently incapacitated and we wish him a full recovery.”

A disgruntled murmur rippled through the hall.

“Excellent! And now, a few final words–Hodgepodge! Oddball! Porp!

With that, a feast like no feast Charlie had ever seen before materialised. With a grin he began spooning chicken and bacon pasta onto his plate, listening to the in-depth conversation Bill and his friends were having next to him.

“..and then I said that no-one at Hogwarts even knew what Iron Maiden there was so was no point.”

“Connor, _I_ don’t even know what Iron Maiden is. Anyway, what does everyone think of the new DADA teacher?”

“He seems alright. Can’t be worse than the last one, can he,” said Bill between a mouthful of Yorkshire pudding.

“To be fair, he was just standard Hogwarts wacky until that Apparition class," said Ella with a shrug.

“Apparition class?” asked Charlie.

“He used to teach it. Some sixth year managed to splinch themselves from their own _spine_. Traumatised him so badly he was in St Mungo’s all summer, that’s what I’ve heard.”

“Ouch,” said Charlie, shuddering.

“Yeah.”

The group sat in uncomfortable silence for a minute. Charlie looked around feeling a bit awkward and made eye contact with Robin who was sitting several spaces down. He waved, not sure if he should say hello.

“Isn’t that the boy you were sitting with on the train?"

“Yeah.”  
“Shit. I didn’t realise that was him,” said Bill, sounding oddly serious.

“Bet you’re regretting that, eh Weasley?” an older boy said, nodding in Charlie’s direction.

“Wait, what? Why?

“He’s Robin _Farr_. He’s the son of Jon Farr and Elisa Rosier.”

“So?”

Bill rolled his eyes. “Bloody hell, Charlie, do you live under a rock? Their families were some of the biggest supporters of–of _You-Know-Who_ ”.

The last part was a whisper. Charlie turned to stare at the figure of Robin, who had to turned to sit with his back to them and was now poking at a bowl of rice pudding. The table was packed to a bursting point, but there was a clear radius of free space around him.

“Are you serious?”

“His father killed loads of our lot in the war. Got sent to Azkaban for it,” Ella said gravely.

“So did his uncle. Took 5 Aurors to bring him down according to my dad.”

“And they just let him into Hogwarts with the rest of us? Doesn’t seem like a good idea to me,” Connor said, his nose wrinkling as he watched the figure of Robin with distaste.

“He’s 11 - what exactly do you think he’s going to do, maim the Muggleborns with Expelliarmus?” a girl sitting across from him retorted.

“We don’t know what magic his family’s been teaching him though, do we? All I’m saying is that I think we should be careful around him.”

“Connor’s got a point, Ruth. I bet there're _loads_ of his supporters still out there in hiding, just waiting to reform the army.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Absolutely mental. Anyway, who’s up for a game of Exploding Snap?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is! My first published chapter of any fic EVER. This may take a while but I am committed to at least finishing Charlie's first year before writer's block strikes. I won't be following the Hogwarts Mystery timeline just because I've not played much of the game so I don't know it and from what I remember the plot was a bit dry. 
> 
> Apologies for any spelling or tense issues.


	2. Chapter 2

Charlie’s autumn term at Hogwarts passed slowly and a few things became obvious. 

The first was that he was not going to be getting a Special Services to the School for his grades anytime soon.  
Charlie didn’t think of himself as some bookworm who was glued to the library, but he had wanted to do well in at least one thing, just to see the look on his brother’s faces. Unfortunately, that hadn’t exactly gone as he’d planned. The main problem was that he just wasn’t made for concentration. Being crammed together in a big stuffy classroom made him want to fall asleep every time without fail. The class didn’t even have to be boring. Professor Flitwick would be explaining summoning charms or something and he’d have one eye on the board and the other watching Hagrid prune the Tentacula bushes out of the classroom window. Charlie reasoned that it didn’t matter how much of the class he remembered as long as his spells were at least halfway decent, which they were so far _(so what if his snuffbox still had fur?)._

The second thing he learnt was that at Hogwarts, your professors were a mixture of some of the weirdest and most brilliant people you would ever meet.

Some were practically an extension of Hogwarts itself, the kind of people you imagine sleeping in their classrooms at night because _dammit Fawley, you **will** transfigure that newt correctly even if it kills me!_ Others like Professor Binns were an invitation for sleep that you may as well accept, even if Uric the Oddball was quite interesting sometimes.

And some were just absolutely terrible.

Defence Against The Dark Arts had been the class everyone was looking forward to the most. Professor Lin had been in the Himalayas studying non-verbal magic with a tribe of wizarding nomads for the last five years and it had made him kind of weird celebrity at Hogwarts.

“There’s an article about him in the _Prophet_ here...Ooh look, there’s photos, too!” a Ravenclaw girl squealed to her friend in Potions before Snape confiscated her paper. Charlie suspected it wasn’t just his academic achievements they were interested in.

Even the boys in his dorm were impressed.

“He’s been nominated for the Wizengamot, look!” said Andy Garvey, showing Charlie a letter his father had sent that morning. “My dad says that they’ll probably want him for Minister when Bagnold retires.”

He was the most exciting thing to happen to Hogwarts all term and it really put a damper on things when he turned out to have the personality of a Flobberworm.

“How do you make _zombies_ boring,” Andy had said in disappointment as he and Charlie walked to the common room after their first Defence Against The Arts lesson. “I mean, how is that even _possible?”_

It was true. Lin’s voice didn’t seem to be able to go above a low whisper which was easily drowned out by the noise of fifty overexcited eleven-year olds. The rapt attention that he’d commanded for about five minutes quickly faded until it was just a few of the most dedicated Ravenclaws still listening. Charlie thought they must be a different species.  
The Slytherins were completely ignoring Lin and had started a giant game of Exploding Snap under one of their desks. Charlie himself was only half listening (something he’d gotten very good at) and was mostly lost in a reoccurring daydream of flying with the Chudley Cannons.

A sudden but loud popping sound made him jump. The Hufflepuff boy behind him had been absentmindedly tracing a pattern on his desk with his wand and had accidentally vanished it. Charlie put his head down on the desk and watch as Lin almost tripped in his haste to conjure the desk back again. It looked as though that would be the most exciting thing to happen all term in Defence Against The Dark Arts.

Potions was a similar disaster but for different reasons - one session in the dungeons had the Gryffindors seriously considering if they were actually witches and wizards at all.  
Before Hogwarts, Charlie had thought that he was decent at brewing – his mother sometimes made healing drafts or brewed herbs for cleaning purposes and roped them into helping. Then again, his mother didn’t breathe down his neck the entire time and actually gave him advice instead of thinly veiled insults. He and the girl he was sat next to barely had time to speak to one another in between frantic chopping of ingredients and even then their potions weren’t very good.

It could’ve been worse though. Robin Farr was sat next to Kevin Quaggley, a boy from their dormitory, in a pairing that was quickly proving to be disastrous. Neither had managed to produce a passable potion so far, much to the growing entertainment of the Slytherins. They always seemed to cut whatever herb they were using wrong or stirred the potion in the wrong direction one too many times at exactly the wrong moment. Charlie suspected Robin’s reputation wasn’t doing him any favours either. Quaggley, a Muggleborn, seemed thoroughly afraid of him and often jumped every time he asked a question or breathed too loudly.

“Can you explain _why_ exactly Quaggley has such a proclivity for destruction whenever he is in your presence?” Professor Snape had asked after a particularly bad Potions lesson. They were brewing the Forgetfulness Solution and his and Robin’s potion had melted a large hole into the desk.

“No, sir,” said Robin.

Kevin, who was nursing several angry blisters on his hands, said nothing.

“15 points from Gryffindor. Farr, take Quaggley to the hospital wing before he inflicts any more damage to himself.”

Robin escorted a whimpering Kevin to the back of the class. Charlie couldn’t tell if he was whimpering because he was in pain, or because he would have to spend another 10 minutes alone with Robin.

“ _Clearly_ , some of those amongst us aren’t able to follow instructions yet. I want 14 inches on the brewing and uses of the Forgetfulness solution in modern wizarding society by Friday and not an inch less.”

A collective moan rippled through the class, but they began to copy the question down, nonetheless. It went without saying that you didn’t try to be clever or – well, do anything that was against the rules in Snape’s dungeons.

“I heard that he force-fed a first-year their own potion for detention once,” a fifth-year had said at the Gryffindor table one night. “It’s probably a load of bollocks, but you just can’t be sure can you?”

Another thing Charlie learnt was that the Gryffindor tower was deceptively large, especially the dormitories.

His bed was in the centre of the room with Liam O’Brian, a blonde Scot, to his left and Andy Garvey, a short curly-haired boy to his right. From the beginning it was obvious they had a lot more in common than they did with Charlie. The pair had both bonded over Gobstones on the first day and spent most of their time playing and discuss different kinds of stones. Charlie sometimes joined in but quickly found that there was only so many times you could get shot in the face with sap before calling it a day. Kevin Quaggley was usually there too, barely understanding the rules but offering advice on which stone Charlie should move next. He had even less in common with this boy, who was a bag of nerves and didn’t seem fully convinced he was even a wizard yet.

“I didn’t even know magic was real until last month,” he’d said giddily. “When my letter came I thought it was my brother having a laugh.”

Even the Streeler seemed restless. It’d made several bids for freedom in the last few weeks and Charlie even woke up one morning to find it on the _ceiling_. Sometimes he and Liam made assault courses for it on the dormitory floor out of books and spare rolls of parchment, but mostly it just sat quietly on his bedside table. They didn’t always make for the most interesting of pets.

That only left Robin, who occupied the bed on the far side of the room.

After the sorting, he had quickly become infamous, not just with the first years but with the whole house of Gryffindor. Girls would dissolve into whispers when he sat near them in the Great Hall. Boys stared at him with silent hostility when he came into the common room. Their classmates looked away awkwardly and swapped seats next period to avoid sitting next to him in class when they thought he wasn’t looking. At dinner he sat alone and seemed to evaporate in between classes and mealtimes, only coming to bed hours after everyone else was already asleep.

“Maybe he’s a vampire,” Bill had joked when the subject came up at dinner. Charlie was seriously considering it.

Most of all, there seemed to be a collective confusion on why he had been sorted into Gryffindor in the first place.

“I reckon it’s all part of this big Ministry conspiracy,” Connor Laghari had said in bated breath. It was a lazy Saturday night and Charlie was sitting with him, Ella Lamb and Bill in the common room.

“You’ve got to be joking.”

“Why not?”

!I don’t know, maybe because the Ministry doesn’t care about what house an eleven-year-old gets sorted into?”

“Yeah, but you know what they _do_ care about?”

“Cauldron thickness?” said Bill with a grin.

“Us uniting. Come on, the Hat only sings about it every year!”

“But what does any of that have to do with _Robin?_ ” said Ella, not looking convinced.

Connor leaned forward dramatically.

“What if they’ve been putting people in the wrong house on purpose?

“What? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Just think about it! They don’t want all the dark wizards in training in one house do they, not after what happened with You-Know-Who. So they start spreading them out like we’ll be a positive influence on them.”

“You really think Robin is in the wrong house?”

“Just think about it, Ella. Even he was shocked when he got sorted into here.”

The two continued back and forth for another half hour, with Bill occasionally cutting in when it got too heated. Charlie didn’t say anything. When you were friends with Connor you did a lot of that unless you wanted to get roped into a two-hour debate on why the Ravenclaw common room didn’t actually exist. Besides, it wasn’t as if what he was saying was even unpopular, in fact it was the opposite. By October, Gryffindor had made the collective decision to act as if Robin Farr was never sorted into their house in the first place and everyone seemed fairly happy with it.

Only once did someone try to confront him, a fourth-year boy egged on by his friends who watched from afar in silent expectation.

“Your father cursed my brother in a raid,” he had said, his voice low and matter of fact but still tinged with cool dislike. “He lost his sight because of it.”

Robin did nothing but lowered his book to meet the eyes of the elder boy. The common room was usually the loudest place in the tower, but it had suddenly seemed very quiet that Friday afternoon.

“What do have to say about that, Farr?”

Charlie noticed Robin’s fingers had turned visibly white where he was gripping his copy of _Cheering Charms._

“My cousin had the Cruciatus Curse used on her by Evan Rosier” said a third-year sitting nearby. Several other students nodded, and flurries of whispers broke out. The common room began swapping their own war stories of what had been done to their uncles, to their cousins like they were badges of honour. Everyone had their own, even him and Bill.

_(“..and he would’ve gotten an Order of Merlin for it if Nott hadn’t pulled the Imperius card..”)_

_(“ ..50 Aurors! The Ministry didn’t even find him until four weeks later when the Polyjuice wore off.”)_

_(“Mum had two brothers. Doesn’t like to talk about it much.”)_

The attention now away from him, Robin took his chance to quietly slip up the stairs into the boy’s dormitory. Nobody tried to stop him, but several people smirked. Charlie did not.  
He didn’t know much about house pride yet, but this didn’t feel like a victory.

As it turned out, it was two months before they spoke again. It was nearly Halloween and the number of essays the first years had to do had reached an alarming height all of a sudden. Charlie was forced to put off wandering the grounds (he still hadn’t gone to the Forbidden Forest yet) in favour of time in the library, not that it did him much good.When Professor Flitwick handed him his essay, he quickly rolled his parchment up before the girl next to him had the chance to ask what he’d got. He didn’t get it – what was he doing wrong that everyone else was doing right? It was lucky that Professor Flitwick didn’t take first-year classes too seriously or he’d be handing in the same Charms essay for the fifth time.

Unfortunately, Professor McGonagall was not as sympathetic.

“I’m sorry Weasley, but a ‘P’ in your first essay just isn’t good enough; you’ll simply have to do it again.”

Charlie felt himself visibly deflate.

“Can’t I just try and do better on the next one?”

“I’m afraid not. I’m expecting both of your essays next Monday or I’ll have to consider giving you some extra tuition.”

The threat of one-on-one time with McGonagall looming over him, Charlie wracked his brains on how he could rewrite his essay in time.  
At first he’d asked the boys in his dorm for help, which was probably a mistake. Andy was just as bad as he was at Transfiguration, and Liam was so disorganised that he frequently lost the notes from class as soon as he’d taken them. Kevin overheard them and offered his help as well as he frequently did. Strangely, Transfiguration was the only class he was halfway decent at and he had agreed that Charlie could borrow his notes in exchange for some Sugar Quills his mother had owled that weekend.  
His problem seemingly sorted, Charlie pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment and was just about to begin writing when he realised that he had absolutely no idea how to read Kevin’s handwriting.

“My mum is a primary school teacher and she taught me how to join my writing up. I had no idea wizards didn’t have it,” he said sheepishly.

Charlie was about to tell him that wizards did have joined-up handwriting but decided it was probably for the best if he didn’t.

The date of next Monday crept closer and close until Charlie was feeling a good deal more desperate. He really did not want to have to write or even read about the Avifors Spell ever again, but it was looking increasingly more likely that he would have to. There seemed as if there was only one option left - and he had no choice but to take it.

He and Liam were leaving the library one afternoon when Charlie spotted him, sat by the window and alone as usual.

“I-er forgot my quill. See you in the dorms later, yeah?” he quickly said, before doubling back and almost knocking Madam Pince over as he zigzagged between bookshelves.

“Hi,” he said, trying to not look like he’d been running.

“..Hi.” Robin glanced up for a second before returning to his reading.

Charlie hovered in awkward silence for about thirty seconds before he sighed and put the book down.

“Do you _need_ something?”

“Well, yes actually. “

“What?”

“Listen..you’re good at Transfiguration aren’t you?”

“I guess. Why?”

“I was wondering.. well, I was wondering if you could help me. With that essay about that bird spell.”

“The Avifor one? Wasn’t that due in last week?”

“Yeah but mine was terrible and McGonagall wants me to do it again but and I know you know probably know loads more spells and stuff than the rest of us and I don't so I just thought that you’d be able to help me..”

Charlie's voice trailed off mid-sentence but the damage was already done. Robin's cool expression had suddenly changed to one of anger. 

“Wait, why do you think I know _loads more stuff_ than the rest of you? Are we not in the same class for everything?” he said icily. 

“Oh, er I don’t know you just seem-

“What _kind_ of magic is it that you think I know, exactly? Everything from the Restricted Section?”

“No - Look, I know you think we all think you’re some kind of dark wizard but- we don’t - look, I don’t alright? You know I don’t.”

Robin snorted. “Do I?”

“ _Yes,_ ”said Charlie, who was starting to get a bit irritated. “You do.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I helped you with your essay in the middle of Gryffindor common room where everyone could see us?” said Robin, clearly not convinced

“No!” said Charlie firmly, looking around in exasperation. Their conversation had started to attract the stares of several people nearby.

When he turned back, Robin was once again reading but from his furrowed brow Charlie could tell he was deep in thought. It was almost a minute before he finally spoke.

“I’ll think about it, then.”

Disappointed but able to tell that he’d already pushed his luck, Charlie nodded and left Robin in peace.

He appeared to make his mind up very quickly. The next evening, there was a note waiting for him on the front post of his bed.

 _Alright, Weasley. Meet me in the library at 12?_  
_RF_

Charlie grinned and looked across the room Robin’s bed. The curtains were shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's chapter 2! To be honest I'm not 100% happy with it but I wanted to get to the point in the story where I can get going with the major plot points next chapter. I have a lot of college work to do in the next month so updates might be a bit slow. Oh, and FYI all the tags will either be implied or included next chapter if anyone's uncomfortable with that. 
> 
> Again apologies for any spelling or tense errors :)


	3. Chapter 3

From the top of the hill right down to the entrance to the pitch, groups of scarlet and emerald spread and huddled together as if they were two kinds of coloured bug. Aside from the pictures in his edition of _‘Quidditch World Cup 81’_ , Charlie hadn’t actually seen many live games, but even he knew that Gryffindor vs Slytherin on a Friday afternoon was no event worth missing, mountains of homework be damned. 

Alongside him but separate in their own little bubble walked Bill, Connor and Ella, each adorned with various assortments of hats, scarves and flags emblazoned with the yellow lion of Gryffindor. Wearing the right colours was as much of a big deal as actually going to the matches, he’d quickly discovered. Until they could buy shiny new ones from Gladrag’s Wizardwear in Hogsmeade, the first and second years had to beg their parents to knit the colours of their favourite house team onto whichever socks or scarves they planned on wearing to the matches. Charlie had learnt that there was even a thriving underground market where seventh years sold their old merch onto impatient first years for tens of Galleons a piece. House pride wasn’t just about who was the best at Quidditch or who got the most points – it also was a competition to see who could be the flashiest about it, especially when it involved two houses who hated each other with a burning passion.  
The fact was that this was the biggest match of the term so far and tension had slowly been building throughout the school. For the last month jabs between house members had been traded in class like they were Chocolate Frog cards and it wasn’t an uncommon sight to see mini duels breaking out in the middle of the corridors between the OWL and NEWT students who’d already learnt jinxes and weren’t afraid to use them. It wasn’t just the pupils either. Charlie suspected there would be a mutiny at the staff table soon enough if Snape kept making comments about the Gryffindor Chaser, Jack Lilly. It was a bitter fact that Slytherin had won the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup four times in a row, something the rest of the school did not wish to help continue. 

“Missing your Death Eater pal, eh Charlie?” Connor had crept up behind him when he wasn’t looking and was now walking alongside him, a half-joking smile playing on his lips. “I didn’t see him at breakfast this morning.” 

To his right, Charlie could see Bill watching them, frowning.

“I think you’re mixing me up with someone else, _mate_.” he said firmly, purposely speeding up so that he was ahead of the rest of the group.

Whoever said that the Slytherins had eyes all over Hogwarts clearly hadn’t sat in the Gryffindor common room for too long. Lately, he and Robin had been working on their respective essays until their eyes felt as if they would fall out. It had been hours past midnight on Saturday when Madame Pince had finally shooed them out of the library and into the deserted common room, yet somehow word that he wasn’t ostracising the boy like everyone else had reached Connor. Charlie felt a ball of frustration well up in his chest. Some part of him wanted to ask them if he wasn’t allowed to make friends with all kinds of witches and wizards, then _what was even the point_ of going to Hogwarts in the first place. Then there was the other part of him just wanted to blend back into the rest of the first years, just another member of the nameless Gryffindor blob again. It really seemed more trouble than it was worth. Besides, he wasn’t even sure if he and Robin were even friends yet. They’d done homework together a few times now, but the dark-haired boy had still seemed frosty at best whenever he’d tried to say hello in the dorms or at dinner. If it weren’t for the prospect of another box of his mother’s best fudge if he got another ‘E’ on his next Transfiguration essay, he wasn’t sure he’d still be bothering with him. 

_Didn’t think that on the train, did you?_ a small voice in the back of his head said snidely. _You had more fun with Robin the Junior Death Eater than you’ve had with Bill and his friends all term._

 _Shut up_ , he thought, weaving his way past a group of giggling Ravenclaws.

They weren’t the only people from Gryffindor Tower making their way to the Quidditch pitch that afternoon. Liam O’Brien and Andy Garvey were walking just in front of him, rapt in conversation. They gave Charlie a friendly nod when they spotted him looking in his direction but didn’t wait for him to catch up with them. Further down the hill, Charlie could see a pale blonde head that could only belong to Kevin Quaggley. He was walking next to a smaller girl who Charlie assumed was the Hufflepuff cousin that he never stopped talking about. Kevin was a big fan of Muggle football and had tried to explain how the teams were similar to something called Crystal Palace much to the confusion of him and the rest of the boys. Charlie wasn’t convinced he even knew what was going on half the time in Quidditch, but he still came to every match, Gryffindor flag at the ready - it wasn’t just about liking the sport.

While he was waiting for Bill and the others to catch up, he spotted the lone figure of Ruth Alex, walking with her scarf pulled up around her neck making her look like an old woman. Charlie had never really…spoken to Ruth, but she was always hovering around them when they were sitting in the common room or sitting in the courtyard. He didn’t even know what her voice really sounded like. The only time he’d even heard her speak was at the first feast when she’d interrupted their conversation to defend Robin Farr and Slytherin. It wasn’t exactly a popular opinion to have in Gryffindor, so he could imagine why she didn’t seem to have many friends. Then again, he wasn’t exactly in any position to judge himself.

He missed The Burrow and it showed. Ever since they’d waved Bill off at King’s Cross last year he’d been dreaming of the day he could finally call Hogwarts his home, but it just didn’t feel that way yet. Charlie missed the Sunday breakfast all crammed into their tiny kitchen and the way his dad in the shed and the twins in their bedroom would gradually outdo each other with the strange noises and explosions they made. He even missed how Ron whined over the spiders that lived under the boiler and the way that the ghoul in the attic thumped about when you were trying to sleep. As sappy and as wet as it sounded, Hogwarts wasn’t a patch on The Burrow, and Charlie couldn’t see that changing anytime soon.

He tried to push those thoughts out of his head as he and Bill shoved and wedged themselves in between about a hundred screaming and stamping Gryffindors, the thought of possibly the most nail-biting match of the season forcing a grin onto his face. After all, the Quidditch pitch was a happy place – how could it not be? Recently it felt a though he’d been spending all his free time there, looping and rolling aimlessly on Bill’s Comet but mostly just enjoying being out of the castle. He'd wanted to try out for the team in the second year and that want had become a burning desire. Charlie wasn’t sure _exactly_ how he was going to do this since his old Shooting Star was at home held together by a few twigs and some Spellotape after a nasty incident last summer involving a chimney stack and the patio floor of a Muggle garden, but he resolved to do it anyway, somehow.

A mumble turned into a roar as the house teams made their way onto the pitch. Charlie had to duck his head the avoid being stabbed in the eye by the end of a large flag the boy next to him was vigorously waving. It was purple and someone had written ‘SINGH FOR SUCCESS’ in large red letters, which could only mean it the boy was here to support one person. Zoe Singh used her left hand to shake with the Slytherin captain and the other to tighten the purple scrunchie at the end of her dark plait of hair. She must’ve spotted the banner in the stands because she waved in Charlie and the boy sat next to him, who looked as though all his Christmases had come early.

“She’s great isn’t she?” said Ella, appearing at his elbow.

“She’s better then great, she’s brilliant," he replied, eyes glued to the pitch as the teams prepared for take-off.

“Best Beater we’ve had in a century Madame Hooch reckons. I can’t believe we didn’t win the Cup last year with her in charge.” Bill interjected, standing on his tiptoes to get a better view over the head of the burly sixth year in front of him

“Come on, the team _was_ pretty shocking last year. Remember when Dan Keeley fell off his broom five minutes into the semi-final?”

“Still would’ve won if it wasn’t for Snape giving Slytherin that stupid penalty in the last five minutes.”

“Who are you talking about?” said Connor, gently nudging several first years out of the way so he could stand next to them.

“Zoe Singh.”

“Oh. You still fancy her then Bill?”

Bill shook his head, his ears starting to go slightly red. He looked as though he was about to say something but was drowned out by the piercing screech of Madame Hooch’s whistle as the players shot into the sky like corks from a bottle.

If there was anything that could remind Charlie of why he loved Quidditch, it would be that matches like this one. Both teams were working in unison as if they shared the same consciousness. They looped and passed the Quaffle between one another until the opposition got tired like it was a prop in some kind of strange dance. Gina Corner, chosen in part to be commentator because she was the only person who knew how to tell the Kowalski twins apart, was having a field day.

“..And that’s Dom Lynch in possession of the Quaffle again as Lee Yaxley attempts to intercept- nice save by Lynch there, back in possession – oof, big collision there."

The crowd roared as the Slytherin Beater, Mortimer Burke, managed to hit Dominic Lynch with a Bludger. He dropped the Quaffle and a green-robed Chaser caught it and weaved towards the Gryffindor goal posts.

“Burke goes for a goal and..nicely diverted by Singh! Gryffindor back in possession.”

At the last second, Zoe Singh crept up behind Burke and hit a nearby Bludger past his shoulder making him turn around and lose grip on the Quaffle. The Gryffindor stand jumped to their feet and shouted in support as Jack Lilly caught the Quaffle and sent it soaring into the Slytherin hoop.

The rest of the match continued in a similar fashion until Maria O’Reilly did a barrel roll on her Cleansweep and caught the Snitch for Gryffindor one-handed an hour and a half later. As the team did a lap of honour, Charlie, Bill and Connor whooped and yelled until their throats went hoarse. Ella and the girl next to her were jumping up and down and hugging one another and Charlie could see Kevin Quaggley’s small cousin sitting on his shoulders, manically waving the boy’s purple flag. 

It wasn't a big win, not even close to the semi-final but that didn’t matter. As trekked back up the hill to the castle, the mood in Gryffindor was one of celebration. 

“Big party in the common room at 6! Bring whatever food you’ve got, and Dom Lynch’s cousin sent him some Firewhiskey in the post last week.” an older boy shouted to nobody in particular. 

Several people whooped and Charlie was about to join in when a scarlet yellow blur knocked him into the crowd, almost making him fall flat on his face.

“Oh, _shit_ I’m sorry,” said a voice from behind him. 

Charlie felt two hands pulling him back up again and turned around to see the weather-beaten and very sheepish face of Jack Lilly, one of the Gryffindor Chasers.

“S’alright. Good game, by the way. That throwing was..really good,” Charlie said, feeling a bit star-struck.

 _Jack Lilly_ was actually speaking to him! He was one of the best Chasers Gryffindor had in a century and everybody adored him because of it. There was even a rumour that the Wimborne Wasps were thinking of signing him after he left Hogwarts. 

“Cheers. Hey, you aren’t Bill Weasley are you?”

“Charlie. He’s my brother.”

“Right, yeah. I’ve seen you on the pitch before, haven’t I?”

“Yeah," said Charlie, feeling himself go red. He’d seen the team practising before, but he’d always tried to keep out of their way, flying way above the stands and the goalposts until he could go no higher.

“No, no it’s fine! I was going to say that I thought you were pretty good actually.”

“Thanks!”

“Yeah...Look, I know that we don’t know each other, but Charlie, you wouldn’t mind doing a favour for me would you?”

Charlie stopped awkwardly tapping his feet and stared at the elder boy. Jack Lilly wanted a favour from _him_ ?

“Yeah, alright. What?” 

Jack stepped forward and leaned in conspiratorially. 

“I’m supposed to be sneaking food from the kitchens for the party later. But it’s my girlfriend’s birthday tomorrow and I -er forgot to owl her present this morning. It won’t get there in time if I don’t do it now.”

“Er- what do you want me to do about it?” said Charlie, wrinkling his nose in confusion.

“Listen, would you mind going to the kitchens for me? It isn’t far from the common room and everyone’s really helpful there, they’ll give you anything you want.”

When Charlie didn’t say anything he bent down even further so that he was almost kneeling at eye level with him

“I’ll even help you with Quidditch if you want. I’ll teach you how to do barrel rolls and everything. She’ll be so pissed if I don’t get it to her on time, come on mate _please_.”

Charlie felt as though his mind had gone strangely blank. Jack Lilly wanted to teach him how to play Quidditch? That morning he hadn’t thought that the boy knew he even existed and here he was, asking him for a favour. And hadn't he made a promise to himself that he would get on the house team next year?

“Yeah, go on then.”

Twenty minutes later and he was already starting to think that it had been a decidedly bad idea to say yes to Jack. For starters, Charlie didn’t even know where the kitchen was, and not for a lack of trying. He’d actually already been on several night-time explorations around the castle. Some had been well worth it like the night he found a small passage leading to the grounds behind a statue of a wizard stirring a cauldron in the east wing. Others had been decidedly more traumatic. One time he’d gotten lost and almost ran straight into Filch and his torch when he finally found the common room again. Charlie was sure that if he hadn’t managed to do a weird kind of crawling roll through the portrait hole he would’ve been in for a month of detention. None of these expeditions made him any the wiser about finding the kitchen, though.

“Just go to the 4th-floor Charms corridor and tickle the pear on that big portrait of the fruit,” Jack had yelled as he ran up the hill in the direction of the owlery. “If you get to the bust of the goblin in the chainmail then you've gone too far!”

After about twenty minutes of searching and some helpful advice from a painting of a blonde witch playing the triangle by the staircase, Charlie found himself standing in the dim afternoon light of the fourth-floor corridor.The painting was bigger than he’d thought, a garish festival of fruit in a bronze frame that stood almost 6ft tall. _Which fruit had Jack said to scratch?_ Charlie gave the apple an experimental poke with the end of his finger. Nothing happened. _The banana? No, it was definitely the pear_ , he thought, leaning forward to tickle the green fruit. It immediately began morphing like putty under his fingers into a slim doorknob. 

Checking that the corridor was clear of Filch or Peeves or – we'll anyone likely to grass on him for sneaking food, he swung the painting open and found himself face to face with a sea of the strangest creatures he’d ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the chapter! Tbh I'm not really happy with how it came out mostly because:
> 
> a) While I was working on it I had to go back to square one not once, not twice but THREE TIMES because my laptop updated and didn't save my documents. :(
> 
> b) This is basically part 1of a mega chapter. Chapter 4 is a 1/4 of the way written but I'm not going to combine them because I thought it'd get too long-winded. 
> 
> So yeah, Chapter 3 is go. Hoepfully CH 4 will take less time to write but let's be honest it's me we're talking about, so probably not.


End file.
